Fairyland
by Ontogenesis
Summary: All stories must come to an end. Will Kurogane's have a happy ending?
1. Sleeping Beauty

This story is being written for a contest on the Live Journal kuroxfai, based on the theme of fairy tales. There are three stories, sandwiched between an introduction and an ending. This story's a little strange - and there's a lot that may not make sense right away, so please don't feel frustrated! The story is written in Kurogane's POV, so you're limited to his understanding.

All of the story except for the ending has been completed. I'll be posting the parts weekly.

**Title:** Fairyland: Introduction and Part I (Sleeping Beauty's Tale.)   
**Disclaimer:** These two were hatched from the collective brain of CLAMP. Not mine.  
**Spoilers:** Yes. Post-Tokyo plot.   
**Rating:** for violence, language.  
**Word Count:** 5920

As always, feedback and criticism are welcomed (improving my writing is one of my goals.) But I also like brief notes, just to let me know you read the story.

* * *

_fairyland: introduction_

When Kurogane woke up, he was completely alone except for a throbbing headache and the certain knowledge that he _wasn't_ supposed to be alone, that something was terribly amiss. There should be others. Together they were five in number, but he couldn't remember anything else.

Kurogane stood to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a small room with hewn stone for walls and rough wooden planks for floors. The room contained the straw-stuffed mattress he'd been sleeping on, and a small desk made of the same wood as the floor. There was a pitcher on the desk. A quick survey of the cabin's only other room proved it to be empty as well, except for a small, coal-burning stove. Kurogane returned to his room and splashed his face with water from the pitcher before emptying it in several long gulps. He still felt thirsty, but there was no other water in the cabin so he sat back down on the mattress, a frown of concentration creasing his face as he tried to pry the faces of his companions from his mind. Begrudgingly his memory offered up the image of a girl whose eyes were large and green and inexplicably sad. There was something familiar in the detached, graceful way she stood, with an unconscious air of authority: _Princess._ Standing behind the princess was a boy with a tousled mop of brown hair. He had tanned skin and wiry muscles that suggested he was accustomed to labor outdoors, but the way he was looking at the princess was fiercely protective. _Brat's probably her bodyguard._ In the boy's arms nestled a small, furry creature that looked like a weird rabbit. Or a meat-bun. Kurogane knew instinctively that this creature enjoyed teasing and was thus his natural enemy. That made three.

And the fourth? There was a man standing next to the children. He was tall and thin, with a halo of golden hair framing his face. No matter how Kurogane concentrated, the man's face remained fuzzy and featureless. Kurogane's head started to throb again in protest and he gave up. "Bastard," he growled at the faceless man, deciding that the man was probably troublesome if even his mere memory induced migraines.

Outside, Kurogane found himself standing on the top of a gently sloping hill. He looked into the distance and saw that there were many identical hills as far as he could see to the north, west, and south. In the east was a dark, massive wood. His hill was the only one with a cabin, and there was no other sign of civilization, except for a small footpath ran from west to east past the base of his hill.

Kurogane walked down the path in the direction of the wood. A carpet of brightly colored flowers dotted the grass, and the sky overhead was a stunning shade of blue that seemed oddly familiar.

He continued following the path until he realized that he was no closer to the woods than when he'd started. He knew he'd been walking through the hills for hours because the sun had been almost directly overhead when he left the cabin, but now it was behind his position and his shirt was soaked with perspiration. He paused, trying to figure out exactly one dealt with woods that seemed bent on escaping when he heard a bright laugh from around the next hill.

Kurogane raced towards the laughter to find a figure standing on the path, swathed from head to toe in a gray, shape-concealing cloak. Perched on one of the figure's fingers was a red bird. The person let out a series of short whistles, and the bird chirped at sporadic intervals, seemingly in response.

"Who are you?" he managed to ask in a passably civil tone. As civil as one could be with people who pretended to talk to birds.

"You're in charge here. So I'm whoever you want me to be, Kurogane," replied the figure lightly. A man, then - the voice was soft and high, but it was unmistakably male.

Instinctively, Kurogane dropped his hand towards his right hip and was surprised to find nothing there, although he did not know why (did he carry a weapon?) That strange man knew who he was and he didn't like it one bit. "How do you know my name?" he growled. "And where are my companions? And what's with these woods? Are they cursed?"

The man stroked the bird with a finger. "So many questions! I know who you are because you're in charge here. The woods... are magical. Whether or not that's a curse depends on your point of view. Regarding your companions: can you describe them?"

Kurogane clenched his jaw, putting his anger in check. He didn't like the man's way of dancing around questions, but he needed assistance and there was no one else to interrogate. "There's the princess: she's a young girl, early teens. Light hair, green eyes, about this high." He gestured with his hand. "The boy's about that high as well and the same age with brown hair, brown eyes. Also, there's a white rabbit thing too; it has long ears. And a man, he's about your height. He has blond hair and he's annoying."

The man laughed again. "In that case, I'll see if Peartia has heard news of any spectacularly annoying visitors." He whistled, an inquiring note in the tone. The bird cocked its head to the side, looking quite thoughtful (for a bird), then it burst forth into an excited song, flapping its wings. The man gave a short whistle back, then lifted his hand upwards to launch the bird into the air. He waved at the retreating bird until it spiraled out of sight, high in the blue sky. "Peartia said that she's heard some of the forest animals speak of a young beauty slumbering deep inside the forest. Apparently this is no natural sleep, either: the child has been asleep for years. Rumor has it that one of the relatives is responsible, but Peartia heard that part from a fox and they're known to embellish stories for dramatic purposes, so let's take it with a grain of salt. Do you think this could be your princess?"

_Years?_ Kurogane was certain he'd been with his companions just a few hours ago, but if one of the princess' feathers were involved, it was possible. Not pleasant, but possible – assuming the man hadn't just simply faked the conversation with the bird for his own twisted amusement. But then again, that white meat bun thing talked, didn't it? "Maybe," Kurogane answered. "Do you know how to get to the forest?"

"Yes," said the man.

Kurogane could just _hear_ the laughter in his voice, and was glad the man was wearing that ugly cloak so he wouldn't be tempted to slug his undoubtedly smug face. "Will you take me?" Kurogane asked instead. It was for the princess, he reminded himself and ignored the twitching of his wounded man-pride.

The man nodded. "You're in charge here."

Kurogane felt a little light flicker on. He didn't much care for games, but that didn't mean he couldn't play. "Okay, then you'll take me to the forest _and_ to the princess."

The man simply nodded again and Kurogane would have smirked a little if his throat weren't feeling so parched again. He'd drunk that whole pitcher of water before leaving the cabin, but perhaps the walk had taken more out of him than he suspected. It was odd, though, the weather here wasn't particularly hot and certainly not as humid as Japan in the summer. "Is there anything to drink around here?"

"Do you want there to be?"

Kurogane glared at the man, but he was more thirsty than annoyed. "Yes, I _want_ some water."

There was a bottle of water on the path. No popping noise or purple burst of smoke or chanted words, the bottle was just there as if it had always been there. Kurogane arched an eyebrow and prodded it with his toe, but it did not explode or attack him, so he picked it up and twisted the cap off and drank deeply. It was just like bottled water in countless worlds they'd visited, with that slight mineral aftertaste and paper wrapping around the middle. "Did you do that?" he asked after he'd finished drinking.

The man shrugged. "You're in--"

Kurogane cut in. "I know, I know. So since I'm apparently your boss now, are you going to give me your name?"

"I don't have one. I'm whoever you want me to be."

It was, Kurogane reflected, a world in which birds talked and bottled water appeared on demand, so perhaps it wasn't implausible that a grown man could wander around with a name. But he didn't have time to waste. "Fine, your name is Guide, because you're going to guide me. This doesn't mean I trust you, though, so if you do anything suspicious, I will kill you."

Kurogane sensed Guide smile under the cloak. "Sounds fair. So Kurogane, how shall we travel? Our destination is several leagues away."

That was undoubtedly a prompt. Remembering the water, he thought of a pair of matched black horses, complete with saddles. "I want a pair of horses," he announced to the air, feeling mildly childish.

The discarded bottle disappeared and in its place stood two fine beasts, complete with the livery he'd imagined – down to the very buckle. The horses whickered eagerly and stretched their well-muscled necks towards him, as if eager to be ridden. Kurogane arched an eyebrow, allowing himself a moment to be impressed before he drew himself up expertly upon one. Being "in charge" had its perks.

Guide clapped. "Nice imagination you've got."

"Shut up and climb on."

* * *

_fairytale: the sleeping beauty's tale_

Kurogane had learned a few useful things about his wishing ability during the last day. Most importantly, he'd learned he couldn't have more than one wish operating at a time when he'd gotten thirsty again (or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he'd just grown thirstier, he never really stopped being thirsty in this world.) He'd wished for some water again but promptly ended up on his behind, rather wet in the seat of his pants. His mount had vanished, replaced by a bottle of water – one that had been crushed by the force of his falling on it. His first thought was that Guide was playing a nasty trick on him, but Guide was sitting on the gravel road too, looking just as dazed and horseless. When Kurogane had wished for the horses back, the bottle had disappeared and the horses had reappeared – but they were fresh as if they hadn't been ridden at all.

He couldn't, however, wish his companions to be transported: he'd stared at the horses and concentrated hard enough to give himself another migraine, but the horses remained resolutely horse-shaped no matter how he phrased his request.

Finally he'd had to admit defeat and decided that the best course of action was to simply try to find his companions as quickly as possible; there was no telling what trouble they could get into in a land with such suspicious magic. So he'd wished for a jeep, after dredging up a vague memory of the vehicle from a previous world. Its large treads and high carriage were suited for navigating the wide gravel path that wound through the black wood, although there were too many potholes and trenches marring the road for them to travel as quickly as on a paved road. Kurogane preferred the jeep's open top design because it provided proper air circulation and good visibility on all sides so he could monitor the woods around them for sudden movement. Although they hadn't been attacked by anything dangerous yet, Kurogane had sensed presences in the woods several times, presences that left him with the unsettling impression of cold, rotting things that lay under damp rocks. Watching. Waiting.

Kurogane knew Guide sensed them as well because each time they passed one of the creatures' lurking spots, Guide stilled noticeably, as if holding his breath would help him escape notice. After consulting a passing red-tailed hawk, however, he relaxed and informed Kurogane that they at least didn't need to fear an attack during daylight hours. But they would have to build a fire tonight.

Simply driving through the night wasn't an option: the jeep had headlights, but the thick canopy of twisting trees overhead would block out moonlight and starlight, and he couldn't count on the headlights alone to help him avoid the potholes in the road.

Still, despite the watching presences, the drive was rather pleasant. The air was cool and the humming of the jeep's motor and crunch of the tires over the gravel was soothing. Guide wasn't bad company either, first impressions aside. He didn't chatter away as Kurogane had feared he would, but instead kept his attention focused on the woods, apparently monitoring the chittering and scolding and songs of the birds that flitted in and out of the woods, their bright feathers vibrant against the green, thick vegetation.

The sun continued to retreat into the western horizon, leaving behind clouds in its wake that glowed electric purple. When only about an hour of daylight remained, Guide gestured to Kurogane to pull over. Kurogane watched as Guide hopped out of the jeep and patrolled along the side of the road, peering intently at the ground until he stopped at one particular patch and gestured to Kurogane to come. As Kurogane drew closer, he saw the chosen area was actually a slightly elevated circle of land – a perfect circle. "Man made or natural?" he asked Guide.

Guide shrugged as if it didn't matter or he didn't know or both. "This is powerful magic that we ought take advantage of. We'll build small fires around the perimeter and keep them going through the night."

Kurogane did not question the other man's knowledge of magic defenses but instead set about gathering small pine needles for kindling. Guide had already proven his knowledge to be superior to Kurogane's because Guide was able to approach the cursed woods when he could not by himself.

The sun had been set for several hours when the _presences_ made their appearances, their eyes glowing angrily in the shadows beyond the perimeter of the circle. Kurogane had wanted to transform the jeep into a sword (he'd remembered that he usually carried one, and was quite a skilled swordsman to boot) but Guide had vetoed that idea - swords would do no good against these creatures. So he was forced merely sit inside the circle with Guide, regulated to a staring-match with the creatures. They were strange things, inky blobs that blended in with the shadows, but Kurogane could still perceive their shapes; darkness didn't inhibit his eyesight much. Kurogane curled his lip in disgust: they had no one set shape, but rather shifted from form to form as if trying to pick one that would intimidate him. "Nice try, you filthy bastards," Kurogane growled, his chin propped listlessly against his knuckles. "Stop wasting my time."

"They can't understand you," Guide said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he reached for some kindling from the pile in the middle of the circle. He tossed it into a fire before adding, "The creatures here all speak different languages."

"So can you understand all animals, or just birds? And those creatures?"

Guide regarded him for a moment, his posture conveying wariness. "Birds and other things that fly, mostly that's all. Of those... lost creatures, just a few words here and there. But I try not to listen to them."

"Will there be creatures guarding the princess?" Kurogane made a mental resolution to turn the jeep into Souhi at some point tomorrow so he could spend some quality time sharpening her. After he got something to drink. His throat was dry and scratchy again, although Guide had shared water from his canteen just a hour ago.

"I don't know," Guide said. "It seems the animals mostly avoid that place so I haven't been able to find out much. But we should assume the worst, so you should get some rest. I'll tend the fires."

There was something in Guide's voice that made Kurogane look up sharply. Was it concern? Had the other man noticed how much water he was drinking? But Kurogane couldn't figure out why the other man would care regardless. They'd only just met.

Yet somehow Kurogane trusted him enough to take his advice, and he drifted to sleep with his head pillowed on his shirt, the last thing he saw a fire crackling before his eyes.

It was rare for him to dream, but that night he did. Not about princesses, but a boy with empty, mismatched eyes and bloody hands and no heart.

* * *

He was deep into the forest.

When Kurogane glanced over his shoulder, he could no longer see the reassuring road or Guide because of the relentless thicket of thorns that had sprung up behind him, effectively cutting off any chance of a quick retreat. Not that he intended to retreat, thorns and that Guide be damned, Kurogane swore, wiping a stinging stream of blood from his eyes before he took another swing at the bristling thorns with Souhi.

After a half-day's travel in the jeep, they'd arrived at this location. Guide had pointed into the woods and said that, according the birds, the imprisoned beauty was about half an hour's journey away. But Guide had steadfastly refused to leave the road, despite Kurogane's pointed reminders about exactly who was in charge, and Guide's promise to take him to the princess. Guide had responded calmly that what "taking" meant was a matter open to interpretation, and that he had done what he could. So Kurogane had transformed the jeep into Souhi while snapping that the sword would serve him better than an unreliable companion.

It had taken him thirty minutes just to get off the road.

The thorn vines had slithered out of the forest as soon as his foot had touched the grass. They moved so quickly and in such large numbers that sometimes he was barely able to bring Souhi up in time to protect his face. He'd unleashed _Chiryuenbu_ and bought himself enough of a reprieve to turn around and yell at Guide about how exactly he should deal with these thorns and that thirty-minute estimate really sucked. But Guide had just shaken his head sadly. Kurogane had been on the verge of cursing the other man out when he'd noticed how tightly the other man was clasping his hands together, so hard that his nails were drawing blood – as if he wanted to help but were restraining himself, perhaps bound by his own strange interpretation of whatever the "rules" of this place were.

Kurogane snorted as he dodged a vine snaking towards his feet and raced deeper into the forest, the vines close on his heels. If a man set out to do something, he should follow through. If he wasn't prepared to break the rules, he shouldn't even bother leaving his house.

He froze when he saw the mass of thorns blocking his advance. They were so tightly massed and interwoven that they appeared to be a solid wall rather than vines, a three-story tall wall. Kurogane pulled Souhi back for another _Chiryuenbu _attack, but suddenly found Souhi locked in position behind him. The thorns that had been chasing him had caught up and ensnared Souhi and his right hand. Now they were slowly pushing him forward. Kurogane arched an eyebrow up in grudging respect at their vegetative cunning: they intended to crush him to death against the wall of thorns.

There wasn't enough room to form another _Chiryuenbu_, even if he could work Souhi free. Continuing to slash at the thorns didn't seem like a viable course, either. There were simply too many. Only an explosive attack like _Chiryuenbu _had any effect because it blew large amounts apart.

There was no way out... but up.

Kurogane stared at Souhi until the sword morphed into a motorcycle helmet. The sudden change of shape caused the vines' grasp on Souhi and his hand to loosen, and he yanked the helmet free triumphantly and fitted it onto his head, pulling the visor down to protect his eyes. Swiftly, he tore strips from his shirt and wound them around his hands and knees for extra padding. Then he took a running leap at the wall of thorns and started scaling at his top speed. He knew only had a precious few moments before the vines suspected his motives.

He was about one story up the bristling wall before he felt a sudden sting in his ankles and a vicious tug that almost caused him to lose his grasp on the thorny wall: the vines had caught up. Kurogane gritted his teeth and kept scaling, even as the number and weight of the vines increased. New vines snaked around his legs and chest, digging deep into his flesh. They hurt like hell, but Kurogane was reasonably certain that he could manage the blood loss (he knew he'd suffered worse, even if he couldn't quite remember it.)

The top was in sight – about half a story more – when the vines wrapped around his shoulders and neck. Kurogane swore as the vines tore into the delicate skin around his neck as if attempting to rip into his carotid arteries. Other vines slapped at his helmet in vain, and Kurogane was certain the damned plants were going for his eyes.

A final burst of energy put him within reach of his goal, and Kurogane grabbed at the ledge of wall and propelled himself to the top. He burst into a sudden roll across the top of wall, and the vines' clutch on him loosened enough for him to work his arms free. He shut his eyes, yanked the helmet off and willed it to become Souhi, then he slashed at the vines still wrapped around his lower body. The injured vines recoiled, and Kurogane raced towards the center point of the wall.

His plan was fairly simple. He'd wondered why the wall remained static even though the vines comprising it were of the same sort as the pursuing vines and thus capable of movement. If the wall had joined in the attack, the sheer number of vines would have easily overwhelmed him. Kurogane could think of only one reason for the vines to remain fixed in place: to guard something vital. Something precious.

When he was roughly at what he guessed to be the center, Kurogane skidded to a stop. He drew a deep breath, closing his eyes as he focused his _ki _around an upraised Souhi.

**Shou.**

Even with his eyes closed, he could _see_ the energy coalescing around the sword. It blazed a brilliant, scorching white against his eyelids.

**Ryu.**

As the energy took shape, Kurogane sensed the sinuous _ki_ of the vines slinking closer until they surrounded him completely. He wouldn't get a second chance.

**Sen.**

The vines sprung forward just as the energy reached its peak. Kurogane swung Souhi downwards and devastating waves of energy spiraled towards the earth, completely obliterating everything in their path.

Kurogane landed heavily in a crouch amid falling fragments of vine, noting that he was none the worse for falling three stories, except for the numbness in his legs from the impact. His eyes darted around the decimated earth until he honed in on a small bush of vines that still twitched weakly. _The brain_. Kurogane rushed it and swept Souhi down like a precision scalpel, cleaving the bush from its trunk. The vines ceased their twitching and suddenly ignited. As if in sympathy, the trunk and all the other bits of remaining vines also caught on fire. The burning continued until the vines crumbled into ash.

The ash and smoke was carried away by a faint breeze. Kurogane watched in dazed disbelief. It was terribly convenient, suspiciously convenient, but he wasn't going to complain. The adrenaline was fading from his system and he was beginning to feel the pangs of overexertion combined with blood loss catch up to him. His throat was parched again, and the smoke had only inflamed the dry tissue. He coughed several times, but resisted the urge to transform Souhi into water and instead gripped the sword more securely. There was no telling what the contingency plan for "killer vines" might be.

As the last of the smoke cleared, Kurogane noticed a small, rather inconspicuous box on the ground. Closer inspection inspection revealed it to be an electrical box with a black power cord trailing away from it. Machines weren't his forte – there weren't any in his country – but even he knew that something was out of kilter if there were electrical boxes just sitting out in the middle of a forest.

The power cord led away from the destroyed clearing and into a small stand of trees. Upon entering the stand, Kurogane's eyes were drawn skyward: there was a circular opening in the branches of the trees. It was a suspiciously perfect circle, just like the one they'd camped on. A long, slender object glinted under the light flooding down from the opening. The cord was connected to that object.

Kurogane drew closer cautiously, and his pulse quickened as the object's nature became evident: it was a coffin on a pedestal, wrought of glass and twisted black metal with carvings like runes. The hackles on Kurogane's neck raised at the sight of those runes; foreign though they were, they had the appearance of hateful, dark curses. The barely audible hum of machinery emanated from the coffin, adding to the wholly unnatural setup.

A corpse should be laid to rest in the warm earth, not stuck in some strange mechanical device. Kurogane growled angrily, resolving to smash the glass and inter the body properly himself.

Then he saw the face of the corpse and forgot to breathe.

Not the princess – the brat. Actually, he hadn't been expecting to find either of them in the coffin; the rumors had said the "princess" was sleeping, not _dead._ Kurogane regarded the face of the boy numbly. He'd been alive just a few days ago, hadn't he? But the grass around the coffin came up to Kurogane's thighs, high as if it'd been untended for years.

Kurogane waded through the grass dazedly, walking along the perimeter of the coffin aimlessly. The boy was no princess, but it wasn't difficult to see why the animals had described him as a beauty. Brown hair curled around his pale face, and his cheeks and lips still retained the soft curves of the very young. When the boy had been alive, it was easy to forget how young he was because his face had always been furrowed with worry and resolve and hesitation, as if he feared he'd be pushed away at any moment. But death had granted him the peace he'd lacked in life.

Bowing his head, Kurogane respectfully placed a hand on top of the coffin. He'd done all he could for the boy, but it hadn't been enough.

Voices flooded into his mind.

_Syaoran-kun, Syaoran-kun, where are you? _

_I can't move, I can't breathe, let me out, please! Why are you doing this? You're my uncle! Please! _

_So dark in here. So quiet. Am I still alive? _

_There's nothing you can do. You should just stop struggling and make it easier on yourself. This is hitsuzen. _

_You were imperfect. Humans have emotions. That's why you are weak and I am strong. _

_Oh god, that's what he had planned. He's copied me. Can't let him, can't let him win. I have to protect **her.** _

_They look so happy. He's not even real, and he gets to have a family._

_What does sunlight feel like? I've forgotten. _

_Dear... when a boy has been "missing" for seven years, he's not "missing" anymore. He's **dead.** He's not coming back. There are other nice boys here, you know. He would want you to be happy. _

_I can never go back. There's nothing left for me. No one left for me._

Kurogane jerked his hand back as if he'd been burned. The voices had been startlingly intimate revelations, and now he knew how the other brat ("fake" Syaoran) must have felt when he had "read" Kurogane's memories in the book. It was like involuntarily reliving another person's most guarded secrets.

Then realization flashed through Kurogane. If he could sense the brat's memories, he must still be alive! Kurogane stared intently at the boy's face. Just the slightest hint of flush colored his cheeks. Kurogane had seen enough bodies to know that no corpse had any hint of color. Almost frantically, Kurogane pried at the lid of the coffin, but it wouldn't budge. Using Souhi to smash the thick glass was out of the question; the glass shards would be driven into the boy. Frowning, Kurogane considered trying to pry the coffin open with the sword. It was airtight, however, so he couldn't wedge the sword in.

The mechanical hum of the coffin caught his attention, and he eyed the power cord thoughtfully. A moment later, the cord sparked weakly, severed in half. With a groan, the coffin's machinery ground to a halt, and the lid of the coffin sprang open with a hiss.

Syaoran did not stir.

Kurogane leaned over the boy and shook his shoulder gently. "Oi, brat. Wake up." There was still no response, so Kurogane slid hands under his shoulders and knees and carried him away from the coffin. Despite Kurogane's weakened state, it took very little effort to carry the boy, he felt so damn light in his arms. He propped the boy up against a tree, one of the ones closest to the opening in the trees and knelt in front of him. _Soak up all the sunlight you need, kid._ But the boy still did not move, and Kurogane drew his brows together, recalling the strange metal runes on the coffin. Curses were not his specialty. That annoying Guide probably knew how to fix the boy, but carrying an unconscious boy back to the road would be dangerous. If the vines or something else attacked, he wouldn't have any hands free to fight with.

_The curse can broken only if a prince with a pure heart kisses the princess._

He didn't know exactly where that weird thought had come from, and it didn't make any sense. He wasn't a prince, although he had been a lord's son, a long time ago (did that count?) But he sure as hell didn't have a pure heart, and Syaoran wasn't a princess by a long shot, unless there was something he'd been hiding. Kurogane snuck a furtive glance at the boy's chest. It was reassuringly flat.

Still, he was running out of options. With a sigh, Kurogane pushed the boy's bangs aside and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead, like his father used to do to him. Wondering when exactly he'd become a father, he sat back expectantly.

Syaoran did not move.

Kurogane growled, his patience evaporated. "Okay, brat, that's enough lazing about. WAKE UP." He cuffed the boy's face lightly. Syaoran's mouth fell open, and a small, black object fell out and Syaoran gasped and started swallowing great gulps of air.

The black object fell into Kurogane's hand, and he twirled it before his eyes suspiciously. It was an ebony bat with eyes that glowed red, and Kurogane's face flushed with rage. With an epithet, Kurogane crushed it in his hands. "I know that symbol," he snarled. He'd sworn to kill the man who wore it.

"My uncle's," Syaoran said with a bitter laugh, not meeting Kurogane's eyes.

"Your uncle... did this to you?" Kurogane did not know what to say.

The boy curled his arms around his knees and put his head down like he wanted to disappear into himself. "Does it matter? He's moved on. He stuck me out here because he didn't need me anymore. They've all moved on, too. They don't need me either. Even _her_." A sad, lonely smile crossed his face. "But I'm glad. I don't want them to be sad because of me."

"Well, _you're_ going to be sad if you don't get off your sorry ass. I've been looking for you for a long time, and not so I could listen to you mope." Kurogane extended a hand to the boy. "C'mon, we have to find the others. They're waiting for us."

"You came... for me?" Syaoran's eyes widened in wonder as he looked up and noticed Kurogane's wounds for the first time.

"Of course I did, brat. You're one of us now," said Kurogane gruffly.

A beautiful smile lit the boy's face and he reached shyly for Kurogane's hand. When he touched Kurogane's hand, he shimmered with a golden light, as if lit from within. "Thank you, Kurogane-san," he whispered. Then he dissolved into a thousand orbs of light and drifted through the opening in the trees.

Kurogane blinked in amazement. "What... the hell?"

"Kurogane!" Guide was running towards him, crashing through the underbrush in his haste. "Are you alright?"

Kurogane mostly ignored him and kept staring at the opening, wondering how much that witch would charge to glue a boy back together. "I thought you couldn't leave the path."

"That's not exactly it." Guide began to poke at him, prodding at his cuts and gashes. "Really, did you have to get yourself that torn up? Those vines have slow-acting poison, you'll be in serious trouble if we don't clean it out."

"He just disappeared."

"Oh, did he?" Guide said, his tone wholly unconcerned and Kurogane looked at him sharply in askance. "You found him. That's what counts. He can keep track of himself now," Guide explained, pulling a bottle out of his cloak.

"You make utterly no sense."

"I've been told that before." Guide sounded amused.

_end: sleeping beauty's tale _

* * *

A/N:

Chiryuenbu Earth Dragon Waltz. Seen in Outo Country when Kurogane and Fai are fighting Oni together.

Shouryusen Rising Dragon Flash. Kurogane uses this kick-ass attack against Kamui in Acid!Tokyoworld (it blasts the vampire into the ceiling.) In this story, though, Kurogane uses a "reverse"Shouryusen, so it blasts downwards instead of upwards.

Hope you enjoyed it! I certainly had fun writing it. :grin:


	2. Rapunzel's Tower

**Title:** Fairyland: Part II (Rapunzel's Tower)  
**Disclaimer:** These two were hatched from the collective brain of CLAMP. Not mine.  
**Spoilers:** Yes. Post-Tokyo plot.  
**Rating:** for violence, language.  
**Word Count:** 2790

As always, feedback and criticism are welcomed (improving my writing is one of my goals.) But I also like brief notes, just to let me know you read the story. I'll try to remember to respond. :grin:

* * *

Kurogane let a low, appreciative whistle. The crow hadn't been exaggerating when it had informed Guide that the tower was at least fifty-five meters tall. Also, the tower stood on several acres of cleared forest land, so there were no trees nearby to detract from its impressive height. There was something off about that tower, though. He'd seen numerous towers during his travels, but they were always connected to a larger complex, usually to serve as a lookout for a village or castle. This one was just standing out in the middle of a forest with no discernible purpose. There was no door, either; it had probably been bricked over. There was one window, but it was set so high up the tower that no one could hope to survive a jump. A rather effective prison, all in all.

He started the engine of the jeep and reached for the stick shift, but a pale hand was already hovering over it, blocking his reach. Kurogane regarded Guide coolly, red eyes narrowed. "What's your problem?" The other man had been silent and extremely tense ever since the tower had risen into their view.

"We shouldn't go any closer." Guide withdrew his hand, his face still fixed forward as if he didn't trust the tower enough to let it out of his sight for even a second.

"One of my companions might be locked in that tower – you saw that coffin the brat was stuck in. You can't seriously expect us to just turn around after traveling all the way here."

"This... wasn't supposed to be here. Not _this_ tower." Guide's hands twisted in his cloak.

Kurogane felt a flush creeping across the back of his neck, and his vision started to shorten, signaling to him that he was growing enraged. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. Losing his temper would not help his companions. "What are you talking about? How would you know what's supposed to be here and what isn't, unless you're involved with this scheme somehow?"

Guide turned his head to look at him. "I promise you that I've never harmed or tried to harm you or your companions. That's all I can give you."

Apparently Guide thought that was a sufficient explanation and he slipped out of the jeep before Kurogane could grab his arm. He started to walk down the road, away from the tower.

"Bastard. You promised to help me and now you're bailing again," Kurogane snarled at Guide's retreating back. "You can at least tell me what's waiting for me. More killer vines? Blob monsters?"

Guide laughed bitterly. "Just a worthless thing. There's nothing there worth saving."

* * *

Despite Guide's statement that there was no danger lurking around the tower, Kurogane had transformed the jeep into Souhi, needing the reassurance of the hilt in his hand and the weight of sword against his shoulder.

But that action had proven to be futile: he'd had to leave Souhi in the grass outside the barrier. Kurogane couldn't see the magic, but he had felt it pricking his skin whenever he drew within twenty meters of the tower. He had been able to pass through it easily, but Souhi could not, no matter which point of entry he tried.

So now he was reduced to standing at the base of the tower, staring up and wondering exactly how he could scale it. He'd just assumed he'd be able to transform Souhi into a rope and grappling hook – rappelling up perfectly smooth walls was no problem for him, provided he had some equipment. He cursed Guide loudly. The bastard had probably known this would happen but had, for whatever reason, elected not to share the information. Today had demonstrated quite clearly that he couldn't rely on Guide to be honest, not that he'd ever really trusted him to begin with; trusting a man who wouldn't show his face would be idiotic. Kurogane watched Guide out of the corner of his eye regularly, but the man was vigilant in staying covered up, untucking only his long, white hands from his sleeves when necessary. He'd have ditched the other man long ago if he didn't need him for directions. And why exactly had he accepted Guide's explanation for the brat's disappearing-light stunt in the first place? Clearly, his ability to judge situations had been degraded severely: there were so many weird things in this world that his perspective had suffered. Sleeping poorly certainly didn't help matters; the previous night he'd had another dream about the boy with the mismatched eyes and the bloody hands. There was something familiar and deeply unsettling about that boy.

Kurogane noticed a stone on the ground. He picked it up with interest. The tower was high, but he was good enough at throwing things to get it close to the window. Kurogane aimed carefully, and the stone clattered noisily against the window. After about a minute, he saw a flash of white inside. "Hey!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, cupping his hands around his face, "Got any rope?" Kurogane wasn't certain if the person could actually understand him at such a distance, but the white disappeared from the window. A little later, something long and thin snaked out of the window, coming down towards him. As the thing drew closer to him, Kurogane started in surprise: what he'd thought was rope was _hair._ Yellow human hair, impossibly long. He tugged on the hair experimentally. It was thick and tightly braided, and in theory should support his weight just as well as any decent rope. Assuming, of course, that the person in the tower was indeed one of his companions or at least not an enemy - and had secured the other end of the hair rope properly.

Kurogane took a deep breath and began to rappel up the tower at a steady pace. Hand over hand, foot over foot. He let out a small snort of surprise; to think that he was willing to place his life into the hands of a possible stranger. He wondered when exactly during his journey he'd lost his mind.

As Kurogane neared the top, he began to shiver. His clothes were thin and damp with perspiration, and the air up this high was bitingly cold. It was dry, too: his throat felt scratchier than normal. He hoped there was something to drink inside the tower.

His hands bumped up against a ledge. Still grasping the rope with one hand, he reached out with the other and pulled himself onto the ledge. In front of him loomed the window. It was much bigger than he'd realized from the ground, high enough for him to pass through without ducking, and he was a tall man. It was also barred with five iron rods. The hair rope was knotted securely around one of the rods.

Kurogane arched an eyebrow. The bars seemed rather excessive to him since the tower was so ridiculously tall. Unless the bars were meant to keep people _out_ rather than in. A wolfish grin crossed his face as he wrapped his hand around one bar for support and placed a booted foot against two others. No stupid bars were a match for _him._ He kicked inwards and the two bars flew into the room, tearing away chunks of brick with them. The bars clanged onto the floor and rolled across the stone floor until they thudded against the opposite wall.

His noisy entrance was met with silence, and Kurogane warily stepped through the window. He'd been expecting to be greeted at the window; after all, the occupant had sent him the rope, implying that his presence was desired. The room was mostly bare, a cold, empty space built of dirty, cracked stone. Straw had been heaped together in a mound as if for a nesting animal. A few buckets and a lonely, twisted fork lay next to the straw. The floor was strange, though: there was some sort of pattern on it. Why bother putting a mosaic on the floor of a prison? Kurogane stepped to the side to let the light from the window illuminate the floor, and his stomach clenched.

What he'd thought was a mosaic were hand-carved drawings. Hundreds and hundreds of them, spiraling around the entire room, drawings of people and animals and fantasy creatures and plants, all painstakingly detailed. Every square inch of the floor was covered, except for one small bare circle in the middle of the room. Kurogane understood the twisted fork now.

Someone shifted. Kurogane looked up sharply into the shadows that clung against the back wall. He could sense a presence there now, but it was very faint - as if it were trying to shrink into itself. There was so much fear that the emotion was almost palpable. Definitely not the princess, then. Even if she'd been hurt by her captors, Kurogane was certain she wouldn't be afraid of him. She had a strong heart. That blond guy? Kurogane couldn't remember if he had a strong heart or not, but he was a grown man and this was presence was small. A child.

"Hey, I won't hurt you. You're the one who sent the rope, right? I've come to get you." Kurogane gentled his voice as much as possible. "Come on out."

There was no response.

With a sigh, Kurogane settled down onto the central circle _in seiza. _There was little point in forcing the child to come out of the shadows. He could easily run the child down, but the last thing Kurogane needed was to try to rappel back down the tower with a panicking child. So the practical option was to sit and meditate, and wait for boredom or curiosity to get the better of the child. He had time: there were no enemies in the surrounding vicinity.

He wasn't certain how long he'd been in a light meditative trance when the child finally edged out the shadows. He resisted the urge to open his eyes a crack since it might send the child scuttling away. Slowly, the child inched towards him, until it was standing just an arm's length away. Kurogane could sense its gaze upon him, strangely penetrating for such a small child. Then there were small hands on his face. The hands ran hesitantly over his hair, his nose, his cheeks and his lips as if committing every feature to memory.

"May I open my eyes?"

The hands fell away, but the child did not retreat. Assent, then.

The child standing in front of him was clothed more in hair than actual clothes. Kurogane had never seen such long hair on a human being; long wavy locks of blond hair spilled over the child's shoulders, and past her- no, _his_ - ankles. The length of the child's hair and the state of the rags (they didn't deserve to be called clothes) suggested that it had been a long, long time since anyone had taken care of this child. His small hands and feet were caked with dirt and cracked from exposure. Comprehension dawned on Kurogane as he understood the gnawing loneliness that must have driven the child to painstakingly carve hundreds of figures into solid stone. _He was making companions for himself._

An overwhelming urge to comfort the child flooded Kurogane, and he stretched out his hand towards the boy's shoulder. The boy flinched back, just out of reach, but there was a desperate longing in his piercing blue eyes.

"Look, kid, I don't know who did this to you or why, but it doesn't matter. I'll take you with me. You'll be safe," Kurogane said. The boy's eyes widened impossibly, but he stepped forward just a little, and Kurogane took his tiny hand and found himself crushing the boy against his chest. The boy went rigid as a porcelain doll, but Kurogane could feel the boy's heart hammering wildly like a terrified rabbit. Finally he calmed, resting his head against Kurogane's shoulder.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Kurogane growled softly, patting the boy's back gently as he moved back towards the window. Now that the child had calmed, it wouldn't be too difficult to rappel back down the hair rope with the boy gripping his neck. But perhaps, Kurogane considered, the boy wouldn't be capable of a strong grip. He'd probably suffered from malnutrition for a long time. Kurogane put the boy down and removed his belt. It was long enough to be used as a lashing to secure the boy to himself, if he wrapped it under the boy's arms and then looped it through his own.

"I can't go outside. It's not safe."

At the whisper, Kurogane almost dropped his belt. Somehow he'd assumed the boy couldn't speak. "It's fine, kid. I'll keep you safe."

The child stared out of the window sorrowfully. Then he met Kurogane's eyes, and a chill ran down Kurogane's spine. Those eyes were so old. No child should wear eyes like those.

"No, I meant it's not safe for _other_ people."

Suddenly there were small hands pushing him. He barely had time to register surprise at the strength behind that push before he was falling. Kurogane looked up and he saw the child gazing down at him sadly and the child and the window were growing smaller as he kept falling and falling and falling. Somewhere in the back of his mind Kurogane thought he should feel angry in his last moments, enraged at being betrayed by the very person he was rescuing. But all he felt was a dim sorrow that the boy was still in the tower and would probably stay there forever.

Then everything went black.

* * *

The sky above was a cloudless blue, a startling shade of blue that seemed familiar. Kurogane stared at the sky, unmoving as he lay sprawled upon the ground, limbs akimbo.

Kurogane heard footfalls approaching, but he didn't stir. The grass was soft and the breeze was rather nice.

"I warned you."

Kurogane didn't bother turning his head to glare at Guide. That would have required movement, and he ached in every part of his body. He couldn't figure out why he wasn't dead, a fall from that height should have killed him instantly. Not that he was going to complain. "We just can't leave that crazy brat in there."

Guide laughed softly as he placed a wet cloth on Kurogane's forehead. "You're so stubborn. Perhaps we're just lucky you have a hard head, although it's what got you into this mess to start with."

"Tell me how to get him out."

There was a tense silence, and Kurogane knew that Guide was carefully weighing his answer, probably figuring out the best way to lie without directly lying. Bastard.

"He didn't belong here. So he's gone now, Kurogane."

Cold dread clawed at Kurogane. He jerked himself upright, and his body (especially his head) throbbed in protest at the speed. But Guide had been telling the truth: the tower was gone. So was the barrier. There was nothing to suggest the tower had ever existed, except for a few crumbling stone blocks and a rusted bar, half-covered with weeds. "What... happened?"

Guide held out Souhi to Kurogane on his palms. "I can't explain it any better than I just did. I'm sorry."

People inexplicably disappearing. Towers crumbling into nothing. And help who was less than forthcoming. "There's a feather involved, isn't there?" Kurogane said, putting his belt back on and attaching Souhi to it.

"Yes, there is! You must find it quickly as possible."

Kurogane stared at the man. He'd expected the cloaked man to lie or dance around the issue, but he appeared downright thrilled at the question, as if he'd just been waiting for Kurogane to ask it. Perhaps Guide was being manipulated somehow against his will and wasn't _allowed_ to speak freely. He still didn't trust him, though. "Fine, then. Let's go."

They walked away from the remains of the tower and did not look back.

end: rapunzel's tale

* * *

A/N: 55 meters is the height of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Yeah, it's high.

in seiza: the Japanese-style of sitting with your legs folded under you. You'll see people doing this in tea ceremonies, go games, formal situations, etc. I can't do it.

If you visit my LJ (linked in my profile as my homepage), you can see a lovely fanart elenatha drew for this chapter!


	3. Little Red Riding Hood

**Title:** Fairyland: Part III (Little Red Riding Hood)   
**Disclaimer:** These two were hatched from the collective brain of CLAMP. Not mine.  
**Spoilers:** Yes. Post-Tokyo plot.   
**Rating:** for violence, language, adult situations.  
**Word Count:** 3309

As always, feedback and criticism are welcomed.

* * *

"How do you feel about hitchhikers?"

Kurogane took his attention off the road to shoot Guide a questioning glare. Guide shrugged nonchalantly, so he gripped the wheel and scanned the side of the road for suspicious characters loitering about. Not that he had anything against hitchhikers; on the contrary, he'd been one himself often enough to have a healthy sense of empathy. But it _was_ Guide who'd posed the question, after all.

Fifteen minutes after Guide's question, Kurogane noticed a flash of red ahead, bright against the green of the trees and grass, so he slowed the jeep. As they drew closer, he realized it was a girl, decked out in a red dress and hooded cape trimmed with delicate black lace, wholly inappropriate for travel through the woods. The idea of a young girl spending the night on the road with those blob creatures on the loose rankled Kurogane. "Miss," he said politely, leaning out of the jeep,"would you like a lift?"

The girl turned her head and stared at him with familiar green eyes. _The princess!_ But she regarded him coolly as if she did not recognize him, her lips narrowed. "No thank you, Mr. Woodcutter. I'm going to my grandmother's house. It's not far."

Kurogane repressed a growl, remembering that the princess could be very stubborn. "It will be dark soon and there are monsters in these woods. Do you have a weapon?"

The girl looked at the overgrown woods and then at the jeep for a long moment, her head tilted in consideration. "I appreciate your kind offer," she said finally, walking around to the passenger side of the jeep, the gravel crunching under her leather boots.

Only then did Kurogane realize Guide was gone. He swore under his breath but managed to keep his expression neutral as he opened the door for the girl. He didn't want to frighten the princess off by ranting about his missing bastard of a companion. "Do you want me to put that in the back seat?" he said instead, nodding his head at the covered basket the princess carried.

The princess' eyes grew wide, and she gripped the basket, her knuckles whitening. "No! No thank you," she said quickly. "It's... a present for my grandmother," she said with a small smile, offering the explanation as an apology.

"Why did you call me 'Mr. Woodcutter'?"

"Because that's what you are," the girl said, lips pursed in puzzlement.

Kurogane arched an eyebrow. She'd said that with the same certainty that Guide had used when pronouncing him 'in charge.' That same, strange, annoying and inexplicable logic. Kurogane restrained his urge to demand answers because the princess was practically broadcasting mistrust. She was sitting as close to the passenger door as possible, like she'd bolt at the slightest provocation, her arms and legs drawn tightly to her body, the basket clutched to her stomach like a shield. Although Kurogane recalled that he had not been particularly close to the princess, she had never _mistrusted_ him.

This damned world. It was really starting to piss him off with the way it seemed to have a strange effect on his companions. So far, he was the only one unaffected. Kurogane wondered if his being 'in charge' and his ability to transform items indicated that he was somehow immune to whatever was influencing his companions. Maybe delivering the princess to her destination would provide some answers, and "grandmother's house" was in the same direction he'd been traveling in anyway.

Kurogane had been driving with the princess for about two hours when the sun began to sink below the horizon. He wondered what were the odds of spotting a perfectly-shaped circle without Guide's assistance. The idea of camping - unprotected magically from the blob creatures - was not an appealing one.

"May we keep driving through the night?" The princess' tone was polite but strained.

"I had planned to stop and rest." And turn the jeep into some bottled water.

The princess bit her lip, worrying at it the way she did whenever she was bothered but trying to conceal it. "But what about...?"

"What about _what_?"

"The wolf," the princess replied, so quietly that she was swallowing her words, as if she were afraid to be heard. She stared at her basket.

A... _wolf_? Kurogane kept his face expressionless because he didn't want to make light of her fears. He supposed a wolf might seem pretty intimidating to an unarmed girl, walking by herself alongside a road, but frankly he was having a hard time imagining how an animal could be a threat to him. He'd been cleaving demons in half since his childhood. Hell, in a pinch, he could even run a rabid beast over with the jeep. "If it's not too much further, I suppose we could keep driving. But you don't need to worry. I can handle a wolf."

The princess stiffened. "Not **a** wolf. **The** wolf. I know he's here. I feel him." She locked eyes with him, her green eyes flashing. "You should not underestimate him. He's very dangerous."

There was something about her tone, that absolute utter certainty and the implicit royal command that sent a chill of doubt racing up Kurogane's spine. He had thought he could handle a wolf, but then again, he hadn't thought a little child could push him out of a window.

They kept driving.

* * *

Grandmother's house was actually an old cottage, built of moss-stained brick and overgrown with ivy. The woods had long since claimed the lawn and were on the verge of taking the house as well; leaf-heavy branches drooped against the eaves and ivy blinded the windows. Kurogane glared at the house, intensely disliking the shrouding effect of the shadows and overgrowth. And there was a presence – barely palpable, yet distasteful. Like a sour note.

A door shutting jarred him from his reverie. The princess's thin eyebrows raised questioningly as she waited outside the jeep, basket wrapped up in her crossed arms. (She was far too polite to inquire as to why exactly he'd been staring down her "grandmother's" house like an enemy, not that he would have been exactly willing to tell her that he had a "funny feeling" if she'd asked.) Kurogane got out of the jeep and willed it to shape itself into Souhi.

An ax clattered to the ground. "What!" Kurogane snarled. He focused on the ax, an image of Souhi in his mind, but the ax remained stubbornly ax-shaped – and the princess was already knocking on the cottage's wooden door. He gently tested his left thumb against the blade and blood beaded on his skin. In a pinch, it would do.

Kurogane rushed through the ajar door, following the princess's cries of "Grandmother!" and slamming doors and clacking boots. He found her standing in the tiny kitchen, her head bowed, basket quivering. "Grandmother isn't here, even though I brought this present, just like I was supposed to." She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

The skill to comfort a crying girl was one Kurogane had never managed to learn, and he swallowed nervously. He really hated to hear a woman cry; somehow he always felt responsible, regardless of the circumstances. Kurogane patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. "Oi, princess, she's probably just out on an errand or something because she didn't know you'd be arriving so soon. Why don't you just sit down here and wait for her?" he asked, even though he thought it was unlikely that an old woman would be traipsing around the woods at night.

The princess rewarded him with a wan smile as she settled upon the chair, arranging her red cape over her knees properly. "Thank you, Mr. Woodcutter, for your kindness. Please, don't feel that you need to stay any longer. I'm afraid I've kept you from your important business."

Kurogane was about to protest that there was no way he would leave her alone under any circumstances, let alone some creepy cottage when he noticed her face pale, her horrified eyes fixed on a point behind him. He spun around, ax ready in his hands.

A wolf stood in the kitchen doorway, framed by the moonlight spilling inside. It was gray and shaggy and tall on its hind legs. Kurogane was seized with loathing and he charged towards the wolf. The ax struck the wolf in its stomach, the force of the blow sending both of them flying through the doorway. There was a slope directly outside, and the two of them tumbled down it, coming to a jarring stop against a large tree trunk. Kurogane sprang backwards before the wolf could retaliate with a crushing bite to his throat, and snatched up the ax he'd dropped during the tumble.

But the wolf lay still on the ground, stunned from the force of the collision. The wolf had hit the tree first, and Kurogane had been cushioned by its body. Kurogane stared in disbelief at its body: there was no blood, no gaping wound, yet he'd hit the wolf with all his strength.

"Hahaha," the wolf chuckled weakly then, and Kurogane felt something snap in his head, like a spell breaking. How could he have not seen that the limbs were too long and oddly proportioned to belong to a wolf? The wolf was a _man_ wrapped in fur.

"Ah, how silly of me... didn't even realize he'd managed to put this wolf skin on me. He's gotten rather good at this, clever boy. No wonder you freaked out when I came in through the back door... haha, oh my head hurts... tree's hard."

That voice! "Guide, you _asshole bastard_! What the fuck were you thinking, running around like that after you ditched me! I could have **killed** you!" Kurogane grabbed the folds of fur around the neck and hauled Guide into a sitting position. He yanked the wolf mask off Guide's head.

Guide's face was pale and framed by a mess of blond hair. His single blue eye blinked at him dazedly.

"You..." Kurogane breathed. It was _him_, that man whose face he couldn't remember, his missing companion. A rush of questions flooded his mind, but all he was able to get out was "why?"

With a small shrug, Guide smiled at him. "Remember? I'm whoever you want me to be. Or _need_ me to be. You needed a guide, not someone who annoys you, distracts you, slows you down."

"Who the hell are you to decide that?! I've been looking for you this whole time, you idiot, and you were laughing at me under that damn cloak!" He shook Guide roughly in lieu of punching the man's brains out.

"You don't understand, Kurogane. I couldn't, can't explain when you don't understand this w--" Guide's voice broke off with a gasp when Kurogane pushed him to the ground and yanked the clasps of the fur open, exposing his chest and belly. "What are you doing?" he whispered as Kurogane's fingers ghosted over his skin.

"What does it look like I'm doing, idiot mage? Checking you for injuries. I know I cut you; you should be bleeding to death." But there was no injury other than an ugly purpling bruise. Kurogane prodded at it and Guide whimpered. "Shut up," Kurogane growled, suddenly acutely aware of how mesmerizing that pale skin was, glowing snow white under the moonlight. His fingers trailed along the edge of the fur, comparing the differences of texture between skin and fur. So damn soft.

Guide whimpered again, but not with pain this time. "Kurogane," he said pleadingly, trying to wriggle away.

"Shut _up_. I don't want to hear another word out of your lying mouth. I've been running around this damned forest for days on a wild goose chase and I'm tired and thirsty and pissed off." Kurogane did not remove his hand.

"Thirsty?" Guide laughed bitterly. "That makes two of us. But that's really my fault. Every time I saw you keep drinking and drinking, I wanted to do something, I really did want to help... Ah, such a worthless thing."

The self-deprecation in his voice irritated Kurogane, and he grabbed Guide's chin with his left hand, forcing the man to meet his eyes. "Don't say shit like that; it offends me. I wouldn't waste my time looking for worthless trash. Do you understand?"

Guide did not answer, his nostrils flaring as his eye shifted into a brilliant gold. "You cut yourself."

"Yeah," he said, noticing that his thumb was still bleeding slightly where he'd tested the ax against it. There was a streak of red on Guide's chin now. Guide wiped his chin clean with his finger, then curled his tongue around the finger lazily before slowly enveloping it into his mouth.

"ohgod," Kurogane breathed, his chest suddenly painfully tight. He'd forgotten the mage was a vampire. But somehow it seemed trivial compared to finding him again, to being with him... to touching him. Kurogane found his hand tracing the shell of one delicate ear reverentially. "What nice ears you have."

"The better to hear you with," answered Guide, one golden eye fixed on the hammering pulse on Kurogane's throat as if he were listening to the blood pounding through Kurogane's body. But Kurogane didn't care as long as that eye only looked at _him_ that way, cat-slit and possessive.

"What a beautiful eye you have." He felt like he was in a trance, reciting from scripted lines. Was Guide capable of hypnotizing him? He didn't much care.

"All the better to see you with," purred the other man, his eye roving hungrily over Kurogane's body as he reached up with his hands to touch his face. Then Guide slid his hands down Kurogane's neck, down to his shoulders.

Kurogane did not flinch as he felt Guide's nails dig into his skin, piercing through his shirt. Blood welled to the surface. "But what sharp claws you have."

"All the better to mark you with."

Kurogane drew his hand across his back, wetting his hand in his own blood. He placed a bloodied finger against Guide's lips, and Guide smiled contentedly, his tongue flicking out to curl around the finger. Kurogane shuddered at the feel of that velvety tongue and the rasp of pointed teeth against his skin. "What terrible teeth you have," Kurogane said quietly, lowering his body to press against Guide's, exposing his neck to Guide's mouth. Guide brushed his lips against his neck so that Kurogane rather felt than heard his last reply: _All the better to eat you with, my dear... Kurogane._

Then there were sharp pricks like tiny needles piercing his skin, and a pulling sensation. Kurogane drifted as the other man fed, vaguely aware of the constant ache in his own throat subsiding. Guide smelled like vanilla, he noted as he idly stroked blond hair. There were duties, other responsibilities he should be tending, but they seemed distant and foreign to him. That princess... she would be fine in the kitchen while he drifted with Guide, warm and unmoored but connected.

"Grandmother!" The cry of joy snapped Kurogane out of his drifting.

"Oh... **shit!"** Guide exclaimed, pushing Kurogane off him. Frantically, he refastened the wolf suit with trembling fingers while Kurogane grabbed the ax. "I forgot, he _made_ me forget what I came here for. He's got too much influence here," Guide said hurriedly as they rushed back to the cottage. "You've got to protect the princess from him."

"Who's 'he' ?" Kurogane demanded but it was too late, they were already at the kitchen door. Kurogane threw up a hand in front of his eyes. The kitchen was filled with a brilliant light that flooded out of the princess's uncovered basket, which she held outstretched like a sacrifice, her glazed eyes beseeching.

A feather!

A pair of hands reached out for it. Hands that belonged to a face with empty, mismatched eyes.

The loving hands that had held the dying princess. The earnest hands he'd trained to wield a sword. The bloody hands that had ripped out his "mommy's" eye.

Once his son, now his enemy.

"You!" spat Kurogane, swinging the ax down between the children.

The boy turned towards him with the detached grace and indifference of a feline, his head tilted as if he were studying a particularly interesting bug.

"What the fuck are you doing?! That feather belongs to the princess, so back off. And stay the hell out of my dreams." Kurogane felt Guide freeze in shock beside him, but he wasn't about to take his eyes of the false Syaoran.

The clone's lips quirked up, an eerie mockery of a smile devoid of any warmth. Then he spoke – or rather, his lips moved, but no sound came out. Yet Kurogane felt his cold words ringing painfully loud _inside_ his head, a foul presence polluting his mind: _A dream inside a dream. If one controls that, what can be denied? Now, there is naught denied to this one._

Kurogane watched in horror as his sword hand dropped the ax and then retreated, exposing the princess to the boy. The clone's eyes gleamed tauntingly at Kurogane as the princess moved towards the boy, her limbs rigid and jerky as if she were a mechanical puppet. "I brought you what you were looking for, Grandmother," the girl said obediently. The boy opened up his mouth as if to swallow the feather down, and Kurogane tried to move but his body was like stone.

"NO!" Guide dashed for the basket and snatched it out of the princess's hands. Suddenly, Kurogane found himself rushing forward and snatching Guide by the neck. He watched in horror as he slammed the smaller man against a wall, and held him there as the clone strolled towards them at a leisurely pace.

"Kuro... ga...ne," gasped Guide as Kurogane's traitorous hands began to squeeze. Then the clone held up a hand, and Kurogane's grip slackened enough for the other man to catch a few desperate gulps of air.

_It was foolish for you to try to stop this one. You have caused one much delay,_ the clone said as he stared unblinkingly at Guide. _But yet... perhaps there is still gain. If one eye grants the power of dream-walking, what will_ two _do_?" The clone smiled then as he placed his face close to Guide's, and Guide trembled in Kurogane's hands. _Perhaps... this one will allow 'Daddy' the privilege this time._

Kurogane watched in horror as his right hand released Guide's throat and reached for that remaining blue eye. _No no no no!!_ His hand shook with the strain of resisting but still kept reaching forward and oh god no no no no.

A pair of fangs sank down hard into his hand, and Kurogane screamed as pain flooded his body, far greater than any he'd experienced yet in this world. Then his mind cleared. He dropped Guide and snatched the feather up, and slammed his fist into the clone. The clone skidded across the floor, his mismatched eyes staring reproachfully at him as he began to fade away.

It wasn't just the boy who was fading, Kurogane realized. The cabin, the princess, even Guide – it was all disappearing. Except for him and the feather in his hand.

Kurogane grabbed Guide's fading form in desperation. "Where the hell are you going?! You promised you'd guide me!" _I don't want to be alone!_

Guide smiled wistfully at him as he slowly flickered out of existence. "I am. Let's go, Kurogane."

"FAI!!"

Everything went white.

end: little red riding hood

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Hope you liked it! Only the resolution is left. Hehehehe. 


	4. Endings

**Title:** Fairyland: Part IV (Ending)  
**Disclaimer:** These two were hatched from the collective brain of CLAMP. Not mine.  
**Spoilers:** Yes. Post-Tokyo plot.  
**Rating:** for language.  
**Word Count:** 1903

Sorry for the delay in updating! FFnet has been having... issues.

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fairyland: ending

Kurogane's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurred. Slowly, the room came into focus. Above him, a white, high ceiling. Underneath, a huge, soft bed, littered with pillows. Sunlit curtains billowed on the right side of his bed.

Someone was touching his right hand, and Kurogane winced as renewed pain shot through it and tried to pull his hand away.

"You're awake," Fai said, his voice thick with relief. "Kurogane, would you please relax your hand so I can treat it?"

His hand was clenched tightly around something warm. Warily, Kurogane opened his hand to find one of the princess's feathers there. He'd never held one of her feathers before and couldn't help but marvel at how it felt against his skin, like something living. It pulsed in his palm, and Kurogane felt a sensation of power race through his body. He realized with a start that he suddenly understood how people could stubbornly cling to "their" feathers, even when confronted with the rightful owner's sweet, imploring face.

"Take it," Kurogane said, shoving the feather at Fai, who placed it on the bedside table, his hands shaking as if from strain. He watched Fai intently as Fai dabbed a cloth smelling of disinfectant onto his injured hand. The other man's features were pinched, the skin drawn tight around his mouth and dark smudges under his eyes.

"I'm sorry... it...it... was necessary," Fai stammered, his eye fixed rigidly on Kurogane's hand, his expression painfully vulnerable, like it hadn't been since that hellish acid rain world.

Kurogane tugged his hand away and drew it close to his face. The muscle between his index finger and thumb sported a tiny pair of unmistakable puncture holes, and the surrounding tissue was swollen and red. But that muscle lacked major arteries. The objective had been pain, not nourishment. "You bit me in that world, or should I say _my dream_, but I have a real injury here."

There was a grinding noise as Fai pushed his chair backwards. "I should go tell Sakura-chan and Syaoran-kun that you're awake! They've been very worried, you know," he said with false cheer, still avoiding eye contact.

Kurogane's arm shot out and snagged Fai's wrist. "Sit," he said, tugging Fai to the bed. It wasn't a request. "You have a lot of explaining to do, **Guide**, and don't think for a minute that I'm going to let you go until you've explained every damned bit to my satisfaction."

Fai obeyed, although he perched stiffly on the very edge, as if he might bolt at any moment. Kurogane drew himself up beside Fai, keeping his hold on the other man's wrist. "If you hadn't bitten me, you would have died when I... when you lost your eye, right?"

Fai twisted his hands together. "The emergence of the feather inside your dream meant that yes, it was possible for dreams to become reality. To have an effect on the actual world."

"How the hell did that feather get in my dream in the first place? And how long have I been out?"

"Four days." Fai bit at his lower lip. They were chapped, and Fai's complexion was even paler than usual. "You had been at the library with Syaoran-kun, researching this country's fairy tales. You left him there to go on an errand, but you never came home." Fai's voice grew flat. "We found you unconscious in an alleyway. There were slash marks on the wall... and magical residue. You were bleeding. Mokona insisted that there was a feather, and when we couldn't find one, I realized it must be inside of you. I believe you fought with Sya—the clone—over the feather, and he attempted to use magic against you. But he isn't very skilled with it yet. It backfired and forced the feather into your mind."

Kurogane grunted. "So he came into my dream to try to get it. He said he got the power of dream-walking from you. That's why you were able to enter my mind so much, isn't it? And you knew more about my dream than I did."

"It's just something you can be trained in. I didn't mean to invade your privacy, but I didn't think you'd wake up otherwise, under the feather's spell," whispered Fai.

"I don't have anything to hide." Kurogane's grasp tightened on Fai's wrist. "But obviously _you_ do, or you wouldn't have disguised yourself in that stupid cloak. It would have made things simpler if you'd just explained everything when you first appeared to me, but you always have to complicate matters, don't you?"

Fai's jaw tightened, and he gave a bitter little laugh. "Kurogane speaks with such confidence. Perhaps he should just explain the rest to me, since I'll get it all wrong."

Kurogane started to lash back at the other man, but then he bit back his retort. He could feel Fai's pulse quickening under his fingers; Fai was just attempting to mask his fear with a distraction. He'd done it successfully in the past far too many times. Exhaling slowly, Kurogane relaxed his grasp on Fai so that his hand was simply covering Fai's, and Fai's eye widened. "Tell me the truth, then. I won't interrupt, but I need to know. Everything. Please."

"I'll... try." A tremor ran over Fai. He stared at the hand over his like it was an anchor, and did not lift his gaze from it once as he recounted the events over the last four days. He explained how he'd spent the time he wasn't with Kurogane in the dream attempting to shore up Kurogane's mental defenses against the clone, who was using his link from the battle with Kurogane to reenter his mind. The clone had held no qualms about causing mental damage to Kurogane, so Fai had been forced to remain vigilant. Syaoran and Sakura had not "entered" Kurogane's mind on the same level as Fai, but they had spent time with his body, hoping the sensation of friendly presences might awaken him. But the clone had manipulated the mental fingerprints they'd left in an attempt to distract Kurogane while he searched for the feather. In Syaoran's case, he'd "imprisoned" the boy's impression since he couldn't sway him. But the princess – here Fai smiled grimly – held too many feelings for the clone, and her impression had ultimately located her feather and delivered it to him. Kurogane's mind, Fai hypothesized, had attempted to make sense of the foreign presences and the magical interference of the feather by putting them into a framework it could understand: the fairy tales he'd just read recently.

Fai paused then, looking uncertain. "But I was afraid because of our... history, that your mind might automatically reject me if I weren't disguised. Also, I was trying to avoid detection from the clone. But in the end, I almost failed rather miserably, didn't I? That's really all there is to it."

"No, it's not," Kurogane said softly. "When I was in the dream, I saw into the boy's mind when he was in the coffin. His mind was open to me. Yours was too. You were afraid I would see into your mind, that I would ask you too many questions and you wouldn't be able to lie. But that tower... that tower and that child came from _your_ mind."

"I really should go and get the others," Fai said very quickly, and he bolted upwards. His legs wobbled from the sudden exertion, and he collapsed. Kurogane caught him under the arms before he hit the floor.

"Idiot," growled Kurogane, carefully placing Fai back onto the bed. He sat beside Fai and put an arm behind the man's back so he wouldn't topple over. Fai really did look terrible; he couldn't stop shivering from exhaustion. "You haven't slept or eaten all this time, have you?" Fai shook his head and Kurogane mentally added the math: Fai hadn't drunk from him for four days when he'd last been conscious... so Fai had gone over eight days without drink. Through trial and error, they'd discovered that five was about Fai's limit. A sudden realization came over Kurogane: "I was always thirsty in that dream. That was your thirst I was experiencing."

"I'm sor--" Fai began, but Kurogane cut him off. "Don't be sorry, stupid mage. If you were thirsty, you should have just taken what you needed."

Fai leaned into Kurogane's shoulder, perhaps from fatigue, perhaps so Kurogane couldn't see his face. "How could I cut you when you were asleep? How could I cut you at all? I don't want to hurt you."

Kurogane's pocket knife was on the bedside table. He took it and wiped against his pant leg, then rolled up his shirt sleeve. Fai's hand closed around his wrist as he brought the knife up. "Please. You're still weak. I don't need to eat now."

Kurogane let his hand drop. Normally, he would just ignore Fai's reluctance, but Fai was vulnerable now. Forcing him to feed would be emotionally damaging. Instead, he patiently stroked Fai with the hand that was supporting him. "If you don't want me to cut myself, you could just bite me." Fai had never bitten him; Kurogane knew he had fangs only because Fai had once accidentally scraped them against his wrist bone while feeding. Fai wouldn't meet his eyes for a week afterwards.

Fai's body tensed. "No. Never."

"When you did it in the dream, it only hurt a little, not nearly as much as me cutting myself. Except when you bit my hand, but that was your intention. It... wasn't a bad thing." Kurogane did not mention the connection and sense of _rightness_ about it, but he was certain Fai remembered.

"It didn't hurt?"

"No. Nothing to feel guilty about. It's just life. Wanting to live is never wrong," Kurogane said with a quiet conviction.

"I want to believe that," Fai whispered, and Kurogane wondered if he were thinking of the boy in the tower. "I must be such a burden to you."

Kurogane couldn't resist pulling Fai closer, as if he could erase Fai's pain by physical contact. "You're a pain in the ass, and you were a pain in the ass as Guide... but it was good that you were there. That you are here. You aren't a burden."

Fai shifted back so he could look him in the eyes. "Really?"

Kurogane met his fearful, hopeful gaze honestly. "Yes. I--" There were more words that he wanted to say, but they stuck in his throat. _I want you to stay, even if you're the most infuriating person I've ever met. Even if you're ashamed of your past and you're broken on the inside. I want you to stay here. I want to be here for you. Let me._

A faint smile passed across Fai's face as if he'd read those unspoken words on Kurogane's face. "Then, I'll try." He ran his fingertips down Kurogane's eyelids, and Kurogane closed his eyes, understanding that the other man did not want to be watched. Fai's lips brushed against his neck, light as a bird's feathers.

Kurogane kept his arm around Fai and did not let go.

the end

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I hope you all enjoyed reading this! I know I enjoyed writing it. If you haven't commented yet, now is a good time to let me know your thoughts, since it's finished. :) 


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